


Grown Men Don't Freak

by Annie D (scaramouche), horusporus



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crack, First Time, Humor, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-22
Updated: 2004-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-02 19:38:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D, https://archiveofourown.org/users/horusporus/pseuds/horusporus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack flirts, and Daniel gets jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grown Men Don't Freak

As far as revelations went, it wasn’t the most earth shattering. As far as facts were, it wasn’t the most unusual.

But.

As far as Daniel Jackson was concerned, it was as stunning as the discovery of the first Stargate.

Which was pretty damn stunning.

World-views changed, paradigms shifted.

Going by those qualifications, then certainly this latest fact learned was definitely earth-shattering, unusual and pretty damn stunning.

Naturally it had to happen, of all the places, in the infirmary.

* * *

Sam was in the middle of cursing a blue streak when Daniel entered the infirmary holding a mildly edible-looking slice of custard pie from the commissary. Jack was nowhere in sight, while Teal’c was, as always, an immovable presence by the bed, unperturbed by the various curses Sam was raining upon her ankle.

It could only mean enforced bed rest of some length.

He put the plate by the bedside. “How long? And where’s Jack?”

“Two weeks, if I have my way.” Janet was inspecting the cast with a critical eye, and completely ignoring Sam’s glare.

“Colonel O’Neill is currently with General Hammond,” Teal’c supplied. “There were… some questions,” he finished mildly.

Daniel frowned. “Yes, well, we did take all the necessary precautions—”

“How the hell were we supposed to know about those damned bouncing… fucking _balls,_” Sam muttered, military childhood shining through.

Fraser seemed more amused than was appropriate for a medical officer. “The fun never stops with you people.”

There was a hesitant shuffling of feet at the entrance the door, just before a tentative voice called out: “Major Carter?”

Sam hissed through her teeth. “Oh God, kill me now.” Daniel tactfully lowered his head to shield his grin.

At the door, Lieutenant Milton stood uncertainly, overpowered by the massive bouquet in his arms. He peeked around the various blooms and offered a smile.

“Come on in, Lieutenant,” Fraser said over her shoulder, earning another hiss from Sam.

“Aww, isn’t that sweet,” Daniel said under his breath as he (kindly?) made way for the lieutenant to approach the bed. “Isn’t that sweet, Teal’c?”

“Indeed.”

To his credit, Lieutenant Milton did not attempt to unload the monstrous arrangement of flowers upon Sam, who was smiling as though her life depended on it. Instead, he just stood uncertainly beside the bed and said solicitously over the blooms, “I heard about what happened, Major, that must’ve been really awful. And – and I hope you’re doing better.”

The ankle may have been keeping Sam from making a getaway, but it didn’t stop an edge from creeping into her words. “Oh fine, never better.”

The sarcasm apparently missed its target as Lieutenant Milton continued blithely, “I brought some flowers.” Even Janet had to raise an eyebrow at that understatement. “I thought they might cheer you up. You know, seeing as you’ll be stuck here for a while.”

Sam’s smile was almost painful to look at, while Janet wasn’t trying to keep her expression sympathetic at all.

Still immune, the young lieutenant puttered about uncertainly on the lookout for a makeshift vase, causing the keen batch of flowers to swing this way and that. Daniel discovered that even the best antihistamines could only go so far.

In the aftermath, all he could say was a muffled “sorry” as he blew his nose with the tissues Teal’c helpfully supplied. The Jaffa then calmly returned the tissue box to the bedside table just before taking the flowers from Lieutenant Milton’s slack hands. “I shall take them to Major Carter’s office.”

The announcement seemed to jolt Lieutenant Milton back to consciousness. “No, no, it’s okay. I should do it.”

“NO! I mean, that’s not a good idea,” Sam amended hastily. “Just leave them there, Teal’c. I’m sure Lieutenant Milton has other, very important things to do, isn’t that right Lieutenant?”

“Well, actually, I thought I might be able to help. If there’s anything you need, Major Carter, anything you need help with…” He gave a shy smile that did absolutely nothing to endear himself to his audience. “Anything at all…”

Fraser took pity on the unfolding fiasco and firmly ushered the lieutenant out. “She needs a lot of rest right now. You don’t want to be disturbing that, do you, Lieutenant? You can always come back later.”

“Oh. Okay.” Lieutenant Milton blinked owlishly at Sam’s determined wave. “Um… take care of yourself Major. And … uh… bye.”

The faint sounds of the lieutenant’s retreating footsteps were interspersed with Daniel’s louder sniffling. Eventually he cleared his throat. “That went quite well this time.”

“Although he is getting noticeably bolder,” said Janet. She cocked a head toward the bouquet that Teal’c had placed on a shelf on the opposite side of the room. “Flowers in the infirmary? That’s a big step.”

“_Please_, this isn’t as bad as the fiasco with Riggs,” Sam said, wincing in synchrony with Janet and Daniel as the bouquet finally accepted its fate and tipped over onto the floor.

“Ah Sergeant Riggs, what a nice… _enthusiastic _young man,” Janet said, her eyes glazing over as she recalled the fond memory.

Daniel looked up in mild confusion, unaware that Riggs had had a crush on Sam.__

“Flowers, finger-snacks and the occasional offer to help with my bike are absolutely _nothing_ compared to what that kid was able to do,” Sam said, finally looking less the pissed invalid she had been all morning. “Weekly car polishes, hand-delivered meat cutlets, dry-cleaning with all the fancies…”

“Why did he stop again?” Janet asked.

“The underwear incident,” Teal’c supplied.

Both women giggled. Though of course all would be denied afterward.

“That was precious! Oh, Janet, you should have been there!” Sam said. She cleared her throat and said in a low voice, “‘Sergeant! It’s not that I don’t appreciate your… laundry… services, but keep your _damn paws off my underwear!_’ I swear, I would have burst out laughing if I hadn’t felt sorry for the poor kid, cowering in the corner like that.”

“O’Neill did not find it amusing,” Teal’c said.

“Well, that’s a given. How would you feel if some kid you hardly know had been going through your personals?” Janet asked.

“I do not have personals.”

While the two women were digesting that piece of information, Daniel was still struggling with the first half of the exchange. He leaned forward to whisper, “Riggs had a crush on Jack?”

Sam looked at him. “Well, yes.”

There was only one suitable reply. “Huh?”

“Well,” Sam said slowly, “I guess he read too much into the Colonel’s friendliness. It happens sometimes.”

“You have to admit, Jack was also at fault for encouraging him,” Janet added. “Free chunks of meat does tend to cloud his judgment.”

Aware that he’d somehow fallen out of the loop, Daniel quickly cut in, “_Sergeant Riggs_?”

“Um. Yes?”

“Sergeant _Michael _Riggs?”

“Yes…?”

Not that Daniel hadn’t noticed the sergeant’s devotion to Jack. It was hard not to, when he seemed to be hiding behind just about every other corner whenever they were on base, armed with something like, ‘Can I help you carry that, Colonel?’ ‘Need a sparring partner, Colonel?’ ‘I’d heard what you did on P-whatever, that was amazing, sir!’

Daniel had found just as amusing as Sam and Teal’c did, of course, but while he had read it as hero worship, it seemed the others… didn’t.

“And Jack just let it… be?”

“The guy _was_ harmless. At least, until the underwear incident,” Sam corrected.

“Well, yes, _of course_, the _underwear incident_…” Daniel tried not to sound too sarcastic.

“Oh right, you were with SG-5 on some mission at the time, right?” Sam said. “You missed out on a great show, though.”

Daniel felt he still wasn’t quite getting with the program. “Jack was _okay _with it?”

“Well, yeah, considering he…” Sam made a swinging motion with one hand. “You know.”

“Know what?”

Sam’s swinging motion grew more vigorous. “You _know_.”

One could practically hear the pieces falling into place as Daniel finally Got It.

Teal’c cast a speculating look towards him. “It seemed that you have been spectacularly obtuse, Daniel Jackson.”

Janet’s version of that look was a little more kindly.  “I don’t think he does it on purpose, Teal’c.”

“Jack? … JACK?”

Sam wasn’t doing anything to keep the fascination off her face. “Wow, he really didn't know.”

Daniel liked to think of himself as a forward-thinking, progressive-minded man who did not put great importance into labels. However, the fact that Jack swung both ways just proved that assumption false.

But still! Jack?

Daniel might be above stereotyping, but he wasn’t blind. Right?

“Daniel, are you okay?” Sam asked carefully. “You’re okay with this, right?”

Whatever answer Daniel had been about to offer, he was cut off with the entrance of… _Jack_.

“Hey kids!” he greeted cheerfully as he strolled in, effortlessly filling up the room with his presence.

Daniel looked at him. It was the same Jack. Colonel. Team leader. Friend. Hero. Pain in the ass.

Bisexual.

Okay. It was obvious his brain still needed some time to recover.

It was also obvious his brain needed to recover in some Jack-free space, as a familiar hand rested on his shoulder and he was trying very hard not to yelp.

“You okay?”

“Yes sir, though I can’t wait to get out of the infirmary,” Sam answered, even though it was obvious to everyone that she wasn’t the one the question was directed to.

“Takes more than a broken ankle to keep you down, Carter,” Jack replied easily, though he was still looking at the adamantly-not-looking-at-Jack Daniel.

“So what did Hammond say?” Daniel asked. See? He was not freaking out.

Jack shrugged dismissively. “Same old same old. More precautions, possibly removing that planet out of the directory, that sorta thing.” He looked at Janet. “No off-planet missions for a while, huh?”

Sam scowled, but she didn’t protest at Janet’s, “Not for another two weeks, no.”

Jack exhaled dramatically. “Oh well, looks like yet another delightful jaunt into catching up with all the bureaucracy and red tape for me.”

“Our sympathies, sir,” Sam replied dryly.

Conversation continued, but they were all just meaningless words washing over Daniel, as he contemplated the thumb absently stroking Sam’s cast.

Okay. So Jack batted on both sides of the plate, so to speak. And the fact that he was using stupid sport analogies was all kinds of… interesting.  So Jack was a bisexual. So what?

So what?

So nothing. It shouldn’t change anything.

But as Jack bid goodbye to his charges and strolled off to find his own rewards from the commissary, Daniel found that his mind was still on the topic. Judging from the look Sam was giving him, she knew it, too.

“Okay. Question.” He took a deep breath. “How long have you known that Jack…” He made the same ridiculous swinging motion with his hand.

“For quite a while, I suppose,” Sam said. She frowned. “You don’t have a problem with it, do you?”

“No, no, no, it’s not that, it’s just…” Daniel stared at her. “How could I not know? I mean, I’ve known Jack longer than you or Teal’c, and yet both of you know! So how is it possible that I missed something this big?”

Sam’s sheepish shrug was not a comforting answer. “Well, it was kinda obvious… I mean, to me,” she added quickly, seeing the expression on his face. “It’s a women’s intuition thing.”

“U-huh. Then how does Teal’c know?”

“I have observed his actions, and he is not the sort to acknowledge the constraints of gender.”

“Then how about Riggs? How come he knew?” Daniel narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t _know_, Daniel, maybe he picked up something the Colonel secretes through his pores,” Sam said, flustered. “It’s not like it’s commissary conversation.”

Janet raised her forefinger to outline an invisible box. “You know how it goes.”

Yes, of course, Daniel dealt with narrow-mindedness on a daily basis, no matter that it was dressed up in a smart uniform.

Honestly, the way he was reacting, he was feeling a little ashamed of himself.

It really shouldn’t bother him at all.

  


* * *

  
Maybe, the reason why he was still obsessing over the matter was because there was no possible way he could have missed it. No way. Sure, he didn’t expect everyone to have their sexual orientation tattooed on their foreheads, but he knew how to read the signs, right? Years of friendship, teamwork and saving each other’s lives and he hadn’t picked up a thing?

He was acquainted with the discipline of anthropology. He was the program’s authority on sociological interaction. If he could theorize why a society was an agrarian one based on fossilized cowpat, why the hell couldn’t he read what were accepted as the very obvious clues into Colonel Jack O’Neil’s Sexual Orientation?

In short, Daniel was feeling very stupid.

But he was man enough to ask for directions. Well, metaphorically anyway.

Teal’c was the only logical choice. Asking another man was out of the question, and asking Sam, Janet or any other woman might invoke the all-mysterious Women’s Intuition, so unless he decided to take estrogen pills, really, their explanation wouldn’t help much.

What he needed was an impartial, outside, _alien_ observer of Terran customs. Teal’c.

Who was at that moment, standing patiently by his cot, his modest pack all ready to go by his side.

“Going home to Chulak?”

“I have no pressing engagements here, and I have not returned for a while.”

Daniel nodded absently. “Yeah. Um, listen, Teal’c, can I ask you something?”

“Indeed, you may.”

The subtle grammar correction did not pass unnoticed, but Daniel continued anyway. “So, um… how did you figure out that Jack’s… that he um…”

“That he swings both ways?”

“God, I really hate that phrase,” Daniel muttered. “But yeah.”

“I observed O’Neill closely, that is all,” Teal’c told him.

“Observed, what do you mean, _observed_?”

“He has repeatedly engaged in frivolously amorous behavior with various people of both genders,” Teal’c said.

“You mean he _flirts_?!” Daniel had to grab the nearest table for support. “You’ve-you’ve actually seen Jack flirt? With guys?”

“On a number of occasions.”

Unbelievable. No way. There was no way Jack — _Jack_, for crying out loud! — would openly flirt with men in apparently public-enough situations to be observed by Teal’c, and Daniel hadn’t noticed. No WAY.

“He does so with you, too, DanielJackson.”

Daniel’s eyes boggled as they attempted to focus on Teal’c. “With me? He flirts with me?”

“Indeed.”

“I would have noticed.”

There was nothing Teal’c could say to that, so he merely raised an eyebrow.

“I would have noticed!” Daniel insisted. Then, in a much quieter voice, “Does he still flirt with me?”

“He did it more often in the past than now, before you both cemented your friendship,” Teal’c said.

“So what? Now that I won’t run off to another desert planet anytime soon, flirting’s over?” No, he did not sound miffed.

“However, he does appear to be highly selective of those he flirts with.” Teal’c’s version of reassuring.

_And that does not include me._

_Whoa, Danny-boy, first you’re surprised, now you’re what… pouting?_

Daniel Jackson was one very confused individual.

* * *

  
When faced with an unexplainable phenomena, a scientist should go right back to the good ‘ol basic scientific method. Gather information. Form hypothesis. Test hypothesis.

Step one, gather information.

So Daniel had taken to hanging out with Jack in the observation deck of the ‘Gate room, doing the observing thing.

The only difference being that Jack was there to observe a UAV launch, while Daniel was there to observe Jack.

They had been there for over half an hour watching the prep of the UAV, and the only thing Jack had said to Daniel the whole time had been, “Didn’t think this was your thing, Daniel. Shouldn’t you be somewhere… translating… something…?”

Daniel had tried not to notice the insult. “Just thought I should observe at least one launch. Just to know what it’s about.”

“Suit yourself.”

Then Jack had taken to hovering over by Sergeant — Daniel caught the name Relman on his uniform — who was coordinating the dial-out and launch.

He didn’t do it consciously, that much Daniel could concede as he went through his own memories. It was just Jack’s MO: a friendly pat on the arm, a mock-annoyed swipe of the shoulder, a guiding touch at the small of the back. Little things, alongside the giant O’Neill grin, that were typical of the man and handed out easily.

They’d never bothered Daniel before. Before he realized that they weren’t exclusively for him? No, before he’d been pointed out that there was maybe, kinda, possibly other reasons behind the friendliness.

&lt;&gt;But flirting? Nah. Not Jack. He was just really really friendly, that’s all.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to be sure.

“So are we ready to go?” Jack asked the sergeant.

“Starting dial-up now.”

“And why do we need a UAV sweep for this planet again?” Daniel asked over the roar of the dialing Gate.

Jack didn’t even turn to look at him. “Who cares?”

“Because the terrain was far too rocky for the MALP to obtain enough preliminary info, and General Hammond is interested in sending a team through, sir,” Sergeant Relman said helpfully.

Daniel raised an eyebrow at him. _Did I ask you?_

“Chevron 3 encoded,” Sergeant Davis announced from the next console.

“This really takes me back,” Jack said wistfully. “Did you make any model airplanes as a kid, Relman?”

“Actually I did, sir,” Relman said, looking up at Jack in surprise. “They wouldn’t fly very far, though.”

“Although technically, they can’t fly at all,” Daniel said. “Those type of model planes only have the ability to glide—”

“Don’t ruin the childhood memory, Daniel,” Jack said. Only teasing. Jack was teasing. There was no reason to feel hurt.

“It was a real bummer every time they crashed, though, sir,” Relman said.

“Yeah, like watching your own heart get ripped out. Especially if you’d spent weeks building ‘em.”

No reason to feel neglected.

“My favorites were the double-wings,” Relman said.

“Oooooh yeah.”

No reason to feel pissed.

“Although nowadays they have those fancy remote-controllers and stuff.”

“Man, if only I had the time. Could play with ‘em up in my cabin.”

“You have a cabin, sir?”

No reason to panic.

“Wormhole!” Daniel said suddenly, arm jumping out to point just as the wormhole burst to life.

Jack slowly turned around to look at him. “Yes, Daniel. I’ve seen one of those before.”

“Starting UAV launch countdown,” Relman announced over the microphone.

Friendly camaraderie. That’s all it was. And Jack was busy being all excited over a hunk of metal, so of course he’d be all chipper.

Who the hell uses the word chipper to describe Jack?

“Launch successful, UAV is airborne,” Relman said.

“Sweet!” Jack exclaimed.

And Daniel watched, in some sort of morbid documentary-style slow-mo his brain had decided to adopt, as Jack’s hand moved up from its resting position, the fingers flexing outward, and…

Grasped Relman’s shoulder. In a strong, firm, grasp. With the fingers, the grasping.

And Relman’s shoulder muscles were moving under Jack’s hand. Leaning into it, accepting it.

Relman turned. And smiled at Jack.

Who smiled back.

_Bastard._ And hello, where did that come from?

“Good work, sergeant,” Jack said.

“I try my best, Colonel.”

And Jack was back fixing his attention at the ‘Gate in front of him. Yes Jack, back to work. No flirting with the apparently-flew-damned-toyplanes-when-he-was-younger Sergeant. No neglecting the best friend standing right beside you.

Who was _not_ seething.

No, Daniel was calmly contemplating the observation data he had just gathered. And he would now draw out a conclusion equally calmly.

And the conclusion was?

Fuck.

* * *

  
Truth to be told, what happened next was not expected. At all. Sure, in some part of his obviously fevered imagination, he imagined testing out his newfound knowledge by throwing himself at Jack…

What?

Exactly.

But as it turned out, no throwing necessary. All it needed was Jack being himself.

Daniel was walking down one of the numerous and indistinguishable hallways, leaving Jack and Sergeant 'Toy Plane' Relman and their mutual appreciation society. It was just one back pat too many.

“Daniel!”

Huh.

“Jack.”

“The launch not interesting enough for ya?”

Daniel tried for a nonchalant shrug, though he wasn't sure how successful he was.

Jack finally caught up with him, easily matching Daniel's hurried strides.

“Where ya goin'?”

Nonchalant Shrug Attempt #2.

“Look.” And Jack was in front of him, blocking the way, and looking intently at Daniel. And stepped closer.

Very close.

Very very close.

Close enough to kiss.

_What the hell? DANIEL!_

Daniel blinked. And tried very hard not to look at Jack's mouth.

That “Yeah?” was not a squeak.

Jack took a breath. “Look, you’ve been acting strangely ever since we got back from that planet. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Daniel nodded. Maybe a little too enthusiastically. “Never better.”

Then Jack did this:

He placed his hand on Daniel's forehead.

_!_ was all Daniel's brain could say.

“…wha…?”

Jack smirked. “Who knows? Just checking for a fever or something.”

And for some reason, some crazy _insane _reason, to have Jack flirting with _him_ only pissed Daniel off. He most certainly was _not _some convenient hit-and-run.

“I said, I'm fine.”

“Fine.”

“Your hand, please.”

“What about it?”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Jack,” Daniel exploded. “_Take it off_!”

And he had to say it in an especially crowded hallway.

Jack grinned. “Sure.”

Argh!

* * *

 

If he looked at the acquired info logically, it was possible to present a detached statistical analysis of the empirical data.

People Jack blatantly flirted with = Sergeant Relman, Sergeant Maiwald of SG-3, the armory Lieutenant, one of the commissary ladies, the gangly Lieutenant of SG-9, one of the guards on Level 2 and General Hammond’s temp secretary.

People Jack was amiable to but did not flirt with = General Hammond (because that would just be weird), SG-2, the rest of SG-3, SG-5, SG-6, Major Ferretti, the security personnel and Janet.

People Jack did flirt not with at all = everyone else. And that included every single person in the science/research department.

So at least Jack’s selectivity was apparent. And it was also apparent that he employed equal force upon approaching male and female persons.

As Daniel made his way back to the safety of his office, he pondered the collective discovery. Daniel didn’t know what it meant, or whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, or how being aware of Jack’s flirt migration patterns was going to help him figure out the tumbleweed that was his thoughts. So Jack was a chronic flirt. An equal opportunity chronic flirt when it came to that (in reference to gender, at least), and Daniel hadn’t noticed.

What, had he been wearing _blinders_ all these years?

What kind of friend was he if he hadn’t noticed…

That Jack was already in his office.

“Jack!”

“Hi to you, too.” It was also disturbing that Jack was able to look so at home there, leaning casually against the desk.

“Can you please leave? I’ve got work to do.”

“Sure you do. That would explain why you’ve been prowling the base, don’t think I haven’t noticed. You restless or something?”

Or something.

“Just needed to stretch my legs.”

“Sure. Sure.” And why wasn’t Jack leaving? He may have been clueless about certain aspects of Jack, but if there was one thing Daniel was absolutely _sure _of, was that he could be damn persistent when he wanted to be. Like at that moment.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Daniel fussed a bit with the papers on the desk, hoping Jack would take the hint, not that he ever did.

“You know, Sam and I chatted a bit this morning.”

Oh shit.

“I didn’t realize you’d be so uncomfortable with the fact.”

First instinct: _what fact?_ But that would only be foolish, so Daniel said quietly, “I just need a little adjusting, that’s all.”

“Yeah? Then could you do the adjusting without all that freaking?”

“Freaking?”

“Like this.”

Daniel yelped at the feel of heavy fingers on his waist. “Jack!” Seeing that he was somehow five feet away from the desk (and Jack), he could only manage a belated, “Ow?”

“There, see? ‘The hell, Daniel? Of all the people in the galaxy, you’re the last guy I thought I should worry about!”

Okay. Angry Jack, not good.

But you know, a Daniel that still had his heart pumping crazily in his chest wasn’t good either. Bad combo.

“I'm sorry okay?! I never thought I'd get so—so—so… over this.”

Jack said quietly, “So we're not—”

“No! No, no, it’s just…” Daniel looked at him suddenly. “The wormhole.”

Jack’s blink was slow and deliberate. “What?”

“It’s physics, right? Matter can only travel through the wormhole in one direction, right? But what if we find a whole _new_ system, oh I don’t know, a Stargate Version 2.0, where the matter can travel in both ways? Sam would have a heart attack!”

“I heard… ‘heart attack’.”

“Yes! And sometimes that happens! Because it’s unexpected! Our reaction has nothing to do with what it _is_, but only because it’s _unexpected_.”

It had made sense in Daniel’s head, but he couldn’t recognize any of the words that just came out of his mouth. Yet, Jack’s face had that strangely calm expression that Daniel had come to know as the one that hinted that he understood more than he let on.

“Huh. Unexpected,” Jack said.

“Exactly.”

“So, I’m thinking… You need time?”

“I… I don't know,” Daniel confessed heavily. At least they were perched side by side on the desk. And Daniel was not freaking. He was not. Really.

“Well, you’re gonna get some anyway. General Hammond’s sending me on an errand to the Pentagon. Haven’t a clue what it’s about until he briefs me, but I'll be back on Monday. So… there’s your… time." Jack had never looked older than he did then.

Daniel felt like such an utter shit. “For what it's worth, I'm really sorry about making such a big deal about it. I'm such a jerk.”

“It’s okay, Daniel.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re just feeling sore that you were so clueless about it.”

“Oh shut up.” They were shoulder jostling like little kids. Progress!

“So we're okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay?”

“OKAY!”

* * *

Daniel should have known better to fall asleep in his office. He’d simply forgotten that he had been given downtime due to Sam’s unfortunate mishap, what with the whole Jack thing and the not-freaking-out thing and… _thing_.

Because falling asleep in his office meant being on base in the morning. And being on base in the morning meant subjecting himself to a Personalized Jack O’Neill Wake Up Call.

And that particular day, it seemed, the Wake Up Call came with a Little Something Extra.

“Daniel. Hey, Daniel.”

He was not a morning person, but one of Jack’s hands was on his shoulder and it was persistent, not unlike the rest of the man.

“Rise and shine. Hey, I thought I told you to go home and get some proper sleep. Hey, wake up.”

The shoulder rubbing was nice. Mmm.

“Wake up!”

“Ow!” Okay, the shoulder getting hit was not nice.

“You do know that Hammond will have my hide if he found out I let you bunk on base. _Again._” Getting nagged by reproachful Jack wasn’t nice, either.

“Sorry, Jack, I just got carried away with my…” Daniel squinted down and tried to make sense of the wriggly lines on the paper he’d fallen asleep on.

“Here you go.” Glasses were pressed into his hand, and he slipped them on gratefully.

“Anyway, I just got carried away with work.”

“Unacceptable.”

Daniel had just about opened his mouth to set sail another argument when he finally realized what Jack was wearing.

“But because I’m a nice guy,” Jack was saying, “This is for you.” He placed a cup of coffee on the desk.

But even the blessed aroma of coffee wasn’t able to reclaim his attention, which was currently fixated on—

The dress blues.

“A thank you would be nice,” Jack said, sounding slightly irritated.

“Huh.”

The dress blues.

“You’re such a joy to have around in the morning, you know that? Anyway, I just talked to Hammond, apparently I’m going off to the Pentagon for the informative gig. It’s _feedback _time.” He snorted. “I _told _Hammond I didn’t want to do this sort of thing on such a regular basis, but with Carter out of commission and our apparent downtime, he’s got an excuse to throw me to the wolves.”

Blah blah blah. Jack’s mouth was moving, but Daniel wasn’t hearing a thing.

The dress blues. Pressed and polished with all that prim symmetrical neatness that tugged at the inner Neanderthal.

Og must yank buttons off with teeth!

“And _then_ they say it’s because they’re thinking of expanding the research side of the Stargate program. And I’m all, _huh_. Ain’t that right, Daniel?”

When did Jack’s shoulders get so broad? Were they always that broad? And the hands! With the gesturing! Moving - so - much - so - expressive…

“And Hammond also mentioned they might be wanting my thoughts about the civilians in the program, and I don’t know what to make of that either, because all the civilians here are scientists; Carter and current company notwithstanding, all of them creep me out or piss me off.”

Jack was moving restlessly near the shelves, as he was wont to do when ranting. As he made a turn round the corner, Daniel found his eyes moving downward of their own accord.

“So what do you think?”

Daniel looked up guiltily, hoping that there was not an I-Was-Checking-Out-My-Best-Friend's-Ass sign flashing above his head.

“Fine, I know you’re not fully awake yet.” Jack sighed. “You drink up, then head home. Daniel? Did you get that? I said, _go home_.”

“Huh.”

_Forgive me, Jack, for I have sinned. Because that’s what you are. Sexy as. Um._

“And I’m going now, Daniel. Going. Now. Off. Two days.”

“Huh.”

“Bye to you, too.”

And the door was closed, for which some parts of Daniel was glad of. A few minutes longer alone with the man probably would have caused Daniel to spontaneously combust, and he didn’t want to have explain that, let alone clean up the inevitable mess afterward.

Oh. Dear. God.

It might have been morning, but Daniel's brain was sure as hell awake.

Oh. Dear. God.

Jack. Is. Hot.

Hotness. Um.

Yeah.

Jack was hot. Really hot. Really, sizzling, don’t-bother-with-the-sunscreen-cos-you’re-gonna-get-burnt-anyway hot.

The fact that Daniel was now aware of the hotness was another… issue… altogether.

“Well. That’s interesting.” He looked down. “And that’s _really _interesting.”

Two days were beginning to sound like an eternity, although he wasn’t quite sure why.

It was probably a good idea to take that shower now.

 

* * *

People always say the best thinking is done in the shower. So that was what Daniel was doing.

That’s right. Thinking.

No. That was not denial.

Really.

His thoughts were a mess.

He decided to take it slowly.

All right. Starting with himself. To be completely honest, Daniel had never actually thought about it. It’s not that he was averse to appreciating masculine beauty, and he had his moments, but this was his best friend. Best friend. Jack.

Well, okay, maybe he was being presumptuous with the title, but considering all that they’d been through together, Daniel knew better than to refuse to recognize Jack’s place in his life.

And sure, there were other equally hot men he’d seen before, but why was the realization that Jack was One of Them making him so flustered?

Was he gay?

So what if he was gay?

Was it a Jack-specific reaction?

Was that a good thing?

Daniel considered.

It would depend on which head you're asking. Heh.

The thing was… the thing was…

_You're screwed, Daniel Jackson._

Unbidden, the image of Jack in full air force regalia crept into his mind.

_Whoa._

Yeah, Daniel had to agree.

* * *

Usually, Daniel seized upon any downtime like any other eager archaeologist impatient to begin all the numerous tasks ahead: collecting, collating, cataloguing et cetera et cetera. And as much as he loved the rest of his teammates, he liked being on his own, doing his… thing, with no distractions or interruptions.

Inevitably though, someone would probably burst in through the door and drag him out to rejoin the land of the living.

Not this particular time, though. Teal’c was on Chulak, Sam was in the infirmary, and Jack was in Washington.

In some alternate universe somewhere, where Daniel had not just found out that a) Jack wasn’t straight; b) Neither was he; and c) Jack was scorching hot, this would be a Very Good Thing. As far as he was concerned, company was an overrated concept.

But.

Daniel _had _just found out a) Jack wasn’t straight; b) Neither was he; and c) Jack was scorching hot. Leaving such a confused man to his own devices was NOT a good idea.

Because inevitably, Daniel was the sort of person who would not let go, and was, at that moment, stewing in his own very confused juices.

He knew he should not be thinking of his best friend that way.

His best friend, who was last seen in his smartly pressed dress blues. His best friend, with his warm brown eyes and strong broad shoulders and strong expressive hands…

_God, Daniel, just stop_.

_Let’s think about this. Sam’s hot, too. All those miles of legs…_

See? He could still compartmentalize Sam the Hot Babe and Sam the Kickass Major, so why was Jack the Extremely Hot Guy bleeding over everything?

He was being completely unreasonable. And unfair to Jack. It’s not like Jack ever came on to him seriously…

Okay, so maybe that was the problem.

To be completely, totally, absolutely honest, sometimes Daniel wished he had met Jack in a place less military. Hell, sometimes he wished Jack_ was _someone less military. He toyed with the idea of experimentation, but he had neither found the time nor the inclination to do so. Yet, as his friendship with Jack developed, he wished he was experienced enough or the circumstances right enough.

It’s bad enough to wish for a guy who could not possibly consider you; it’s worse when they could’ve, and they didn’t.

_Oh come off it Daniel, it’s not like he’s romancing anyone else._

And yes, in all that mattered, Jack O’Neill was a complete professional. Flirting meant poking at things from the other side of the window, and there was some comfort in knowing that Jack always had safety lines clearly marked. Of course, Daniel had to wonder what made Jack think that he (Daniel) required the same safety lines as the others. They had a special _thing_ going on, right? Friendship and all that? Certainly Daniel belonged to a separate category from everyone else, right?

_Although, maybe he didn’t do anything because he thought (quite rightly) that you were straight?_

_Yeah, keep on dreaming Jackson._

Fuck it. They were friends. Jack was the best friend he thought he would never have, and now he wanted to throw it away on a stupid possibility just because he finally realized just how incredibly hot he was?

Well, that was very shallow.

So Daniel properly berated himself for thinking such thoughts and tried his damndest to set them aside.

But you know that thing about not letting go? Yeah.

And Daniel kept thinking, even when he paid a visit to the infirmary, shamefully only able to pay half attention to Sam while he considered further.

Jack was hot. Fine. Put that aside. If it was just that, he suspected he could easily set the lustful thoughts aside.

But no. Jack had to be… Jack.

Kind, gruff, warm, funny, loyal, honorable, practical Jack.

Daniel sighed.

Next time, he’d settle for astounding revelations of the technical sort. Any more matters-of-the-heart shit like this and he’d quit.

* * *

  
_Daniel Jackson Resolution #1453: Even though I may be in love with a certain particular Air Force Colonel, I WON’T do anything about it._

Well, in hindsight, it was a lovely resolution.

* * *

  
Daniel Jackson was a person greatly skilled in denial. He kept blinders on to operate on a level acceptable to society. After the death of Sha’re it was this skill that kept him barely alive. It had stood him well.

And with this gift, he reasoned thus:

It was perfectly acceptable behavior to be happy that Jack was coming back. After all, the poor guy had been subjected to another round of playing the good colonel, one of the roles he didn’t particularly like but came with the territory. And seeing that he’d probably be arriving in a slightly cranky mood (if things went well), it was also perfectly acceptable on Daniel’s part to have a friendly-like desire to want to cheer him up.

So Daniel told himself.

Nothing out of the ordinary for him to be casually strolling around the SGC hallways strategically near to the elevator, a cup of coffee keeping him company.

His watch said 1013. Jack should be checking in any moment now.

“Morning, Doctor Jackson,” someone who was not Jack greeted him as he strolled past.

“Oh. Yeah, hi.” 1014.

Fer crying out loud. How typical of Jack to keep him waiting.

Not that he was _waiting_ waiting, of course.

The little _ting_ of the elevator made him jump, and he knew it was Jack. He didn’t have time to ponder his newly-found psychic powers, as he was too busy being preoccupied in trying to look preoccupied so that his well-rehearsed _hey-Jack-oh-you’re-back_ cool nonchalance would come off just right.

Jack’s voice drifted out from the opening elevator doors. “…and _left_ us like that!”

“Lemme guess.” This was a different, new voice. “You shot him?”

“Loved to, but the paperwork would’ve been such a headache. You know how it is.”

“Mellowing, are we, Jack?” New voice was teasing.

“You wish. I can still kick your ass.” Jack’s voice was equally teasing.

New voice dropped slightly in volume. “Weeeell, that would depend on the activity.”

And Jack laughed.

Daniel had to look. He knew he’d regret it, but he still had to.

Jack was still in dress blues — mmm, dress blues — and so was the newcomer. In fact, newcomer had the same military-style broad shoulders and well-defined chest, almost-blonde brown hair, bright brown eyes, and a killer smile.

Which was aimed directly at Jack.

Who was answering with one of his own.

“You challenging me, Major?” Jack asked, his head leaning close to the newcomer’s.

“Always, Colonel.”

Not only was Jack on full-blown flirt mode, his target was actually reciprocating in equal force. It was a… a… Flirt Fest. A fuck fuckity Flirt Fest.

Daniel’s stomach didn’t feel so good.

“Oh, hey, Daniel,” Jack said, slowing down to a halt in front of him. “Sheridan, this is Daniel Jackson, our foremost expert on languages, dead cultures and things to avoid when out in the field. Daniel, say hi.”

“_Doctor _Jackson.” Daniel gripped the newcomer’s hand slightly harder than necessary, but the guy didn’t seem to notice.

“Ah, yes, Jack’s mentioned you.”

“Sheridan’s got a Ph.D. too,” Jack said, his eyes having the audacity to light up as he spoke. “Isn’t that cool? You don’t see a guy for a couple of years and he shows up with a new fancy-ass title. Major Doctor. Kinda like Carter, except he actually has a life.”

Was there such a thing as hate on first sight?

“As much as a life as the Air Force allows, of course. But then again, who are you to talk about what it’s like to have a life, Jack?”

“Hey, I have a life!”

“Sure you do.”

And his ears were uneven.

“Hey, saving the world takes a toll on one’s social engagements.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that excuse the next time someone asks.”

And he blinked funny.

“Anyway, Daniel, he’s here as a new science consultant, for one of the labs, don’t ask me which one, and he’s to coordinate… something… scientific. I’m going to take him to General Hammond now, so I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Nice to meet you, Doctor Jackson.”

Daniel seemed to have acquired a mysterious case of lockjaw as he bit out, “You. Too. Major… Sheridan, was it?”

“Major Jameson, actually. Sheridan’s my first name.”

And his teeth were too big.

Daniel looked down at his cup of coffee, wondering whether it was okay if he decided to throw it at the next person who happened to walk past him.

No. Wait. Cool. He was cool.

It came with the territory, right? Jack’s orientation being as it was, of course he’d be attracted to other men. And, well, it wouldn’t be much surprising if other men returned the sense of attraction. Right? He was okay with it, right?__

Jack’s laughter drifted from down the hallway, echoed by Major Toothy’s own chuckling.

And resounding in Daniel’s brain was one big honking NO.

* * *

  
The one time Daniel decided to be early for a meeting, and he had to put up with this. ‘This’ being one extremely hot Colonel and one enamel-ly over endowed Major sitting right next to each other, too close for one disgruntled Doctor’s comfort.

Where were the other SGC consultants?! It was meeting time! It was highly irresponsible of them to be late!

“And don’t worry, I’ll talk to Hammond, get you on an active team. You don’t wanna be cooped up on base all the time, trust me. Out _there’_s where all the action is.”

_My, how nice of you, Jack._

“You don’t have to do that.” _Stop grinning, Major Toothy._

“Just consider yourself owing me a favor.”

“Payable how?” Lean any closer and he’d be sprawled all over Jack’s lap.

“Street hockey. You still play?”

“Youbetcha.” _What was with the breathy voice thing?!_

“How’s the stick handling?”

Even Major Toothy appeared taken aback by that one, but luckily neither noticed how Daniel’s forehead softly made contact with the table.

“Pretty good, if I say so myself. It’s all in the wrist, you know.”

Surely Jack would pull a muscle if he kept grinning like that. “Hmm. Oh, hey Carter. How’s the ankle?”

God bless Sam, even if Janet had to push her in a wheelchair to do it.

Jack promptly stood up. So did one Major Sheridan Jameson. Daniel only belatedly so. And he sourly refused to take the gesture as a mark of a gentleman.

“Getting better,” Sam sighed. “At least I’m mobile.”

Just as Janet parked the invalid next to Daniel, she gave him a speculative look. “You okay, Daniel?”

“Huh? Yeah. Just a little tired.” _Of Major Toothy trying to blind Jack with his sparkling canines._

“Carter, this is Major Sheridan Jameson, he’s gonna be one of yours. I mean, one of you coordinating scientist-research officer people. Sheridan, Major Samantha Carter. Don’t ask me for details, I’m just the escort.”

“How noble of you, Jack.”

“Anyway, I better be going.” Jack stood up.

“For fear of being swarmed by the brainiacs?” Major Toothy could _not _take a hint. _Shut. Up._

“Dr Harris and Dr Freore should be here soon,” Janet said.

“And that’s definitely my cue to leave.” Jack rolled a shoulder — ooh, muscle action — and then raised a hand and…

He stretched.

And Daniel’s hands clenched to the armrests, because he did not see Major ‘Oh Sheridan’s My First Name’ giving Jack a speculative look.

* * *

  
For someone who claimed power of the mystery that was Women’s Intuition, Sam sure didn’t notice that her _friend_ was fuming. No, instead she was chuckling — _chuckling_ — at whatever the hell Jameson had said.

Daniel was fighting gravity maintaining his smile. “You and Jack been friends long?”

Apparently Jameson was really proud of his dental work, as Daniel couldn’t find another explanation for that easy smile. “A bit. We worked together on a top-secret project some time back. Then he went and did his thing, I went and did my thing, and here we are again, with another top secret project.”

Yay.

Sam still seemed to think there was something amusing at play, although Daniel couldn’t for the life of him figure out what.

“I actually find it quite surprising that you and Jack are friends,” Sam said. “He’s always had a thing against scientists.”

“That’s a bit unfair,” Major Toothy said. “Both of you are scientists, and you’re like family to him. He’s talked about nothing but you guys for the past two days.”

Family, huh? Family is good. Family is wonderful.

Family is not sexy.

Family is familiar.

Family is boring. Everyday. Banal. Not conducive to sparking wild-monkey-sex thoughts.

_You just shut up about incest, Brain_.

He tuned out the conversation. Daniel was in a serious self-hate mode. If only Major Sheridan ‘Big Teeth’ Jameson was genuinely unlikable.

But no.

Shit.

Shitshitshitshit to the power of infinity, shit.

“Daniel? Daniel?” He finally noticed the hand Sam was waving in front of his face.

“Still with us?”

He’d start hating her too, if Sam wouldn’t stop looking like she was enjoying the best private joke in the world.

* * *

  
Five more minutes in the presence of Major Toothy, and Daniel would have had to relinquish all responsibility for his actions. As soon as the meeting had been called to an end, Daniel had grabbed his things and made his way down to the commissary. It just seemed to be vital that he get there before Major Toothy.

Jack was sitting alone at a table, pondering the spiritual significance of chicken strips. The jacket of his dress blues was slung casually over an empty chair, and as Daniel strolled toward it, he had to fight down the unexplainable urge to grab it and run.

“Hey, Daniel.” Jack smiled at him. “How was the meeting?”

_Haha! Got here before Major BigTeeth! _Channeling his inner five-year-old was always enjoyable, immaturity aside.

“Wouldn’t want to bore you with details, Jack.”

“Sheridan make a good impression on the rest of you people?”

SheridanSheridanSheridan!

“I guess.” Daniel gave a little shrug.

“You guys’ll get along great.” Jack seemed _way_ too sure of that. “He’s a cool guy. And he’s one of you. You can bond over… stuff… Hey, he should be here any moment. Want to join us for lunch?”

_I’d rather get a snake put in my head._

“Nah, I’ve got some things to do. I’ll be over there.” Daniel straightened to leave. _Make me stay, Jack._

“You sure? You won’t eat properly if you’re on your own.” Jack grinned at him.

“I can take care of my own eating habits, thank you very much.”

“Aww, come on, Daniel. Don’t tell me your whatchamacallits are better company than me?”

Daniel found himself grinning of his own accord. “Some times, they can be.”

“Hah.” Then Jack raised an eyebrow as though in question.

“I’m fine.” _Helluva guy._

“Hey, sorry it took me so long.”

Aaaaaand Major Oversized Chompers makes his entrance. Talk about spoiling the mood.

“Sheridan, grab something, have a seat!” Jack gestured.

“Doctor Jackson, will you be joining us?” Major Super Enamel asked.

“No thanks, I’ll pass. Got things to do.” Daniel waved his notes in his defense as he carefully backed away and found his own table at a corner. Far away enough to allow himself to inconspicuously watch Jack’s table, and close enough to at least make out what they were doing.

Daniel was slowly coming to realize that while he was perfectly fine with Jack being attracted to other men, the thought of Jack actually _being_ with another man made him, well… sick to the stomach.

Stealing a look at how Jack and Major Sparkling Canines were arranging their cups of Jell-O in a little pyramid, it was obvious they were more than comfortable in each other’s company. And it also appeared that it was only the restriction of their being in public that they weren’t leaning further into each other’s personal space.

Images came to Daniel’s mind unbidden. Jack kissing the Major. Breathing on him. Touching him.

The actively sexual Jack was perfectly fine. Major Pearly Whites was the one wrong with the picture.

Jack pushed, but wasn’t pushy. He was like a small kid in that way, poking and prodding at whatever made him curious, but always keeping a safe distance, and at the first sign of trouble was always ready to run (or empty a couple dozen rounds, whichever was more convenient). He established boundaries, not for his sake but for those around them, and while he constantly tested the limits of those boundaries, he never overstepped them.

Maybe that’s why Daniel had considered Jack’s casual flirting as relatively harmless. Jack knew better than to get involved with anyone on base, and not only for the obvious reasons.

Jack needed someone who pushed back. Someone who would test his own boundaries, someone to challenge him back in ways that no one in the SGC dared to.

_Well, except me._

_But he doesn’t want me._

Major Polished Molars fit the bill perfectly.

Daniel bit into his pen savagely, trying not to glare too much. __

Why doesn’t he want me?

_Besides the fact that he thinks I’m straight._

_Still, that’s no excuse!_

“Jeez, Daniel, you’re pulverizing that pen.”

To Daniel’s credit he did not jump, although inside he was flailing around in an embarrassed panic. “Hey, Sam. I thought you went back to the infirmary.”

“Please, I want to relish my time away from Janet’s evil clutches.” She gave him a gentle smile. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I don’t think I have much of an appetite today.”

Sam nodded, as though that explained everything. “You don’t look so good. You need some exercise. Let’s take a trip to my lab.”

“No, I—”

“Wheel me to my lab, Daniel.” Sam’s voice allowed for no arguments. “Now.”

Daniel did as he was told, more out of preservation of his own skin than anything else. Sam was mercifully quiet during the trip, but the silence only lasted until they arrived.

“What?” Although Daniel had a rough idea of what was coming.

“Daniel, you okay?”

He was beginning to despise that question.

But no. Daniel’s nice.

Just nice.

Not hot, or charming or apparently anyone worth flirting with.

Sam then added, “Meow, Daniel.”

“Excuse me?”

“The meeting?” Sam asked. “You were hitting Major Jameson pretty hard. Almost as though you think he’s not good enough for the Stargate program.”

“Well, you can never be too sure,” Daniel said. “It’s a big responsibility. Just wanted him to fully understand what he’s getting himself into.”

“I’m sure," she replied wryly. “And this has nothing to do with how friendly he is with the Colonel?”

“He’s friendly with Jack? Hadn’t noticed.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “I've worked with Major Jameson before. Not as long as the colonel did, but long enough to know that he’s a good man. One of the few I know that will do actual good in the Stargate program. But it’s not about him, is it?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you invoking the Women’s Intuition now?”

That got a little chuckle out from Sam, at least. “Tell me the truth. How do you feel about the possibility of Jack being…” She tilted her head in question.

“The truth?” Daniel looked her square in the eye. “I'm fine with it. And besides, that has nothing to do with the Major. Besides, what kind of name is Sheridan anyway? What sort of parents would inflict that name onto a child? And Jack may have known him a lot longer, but so what? What does that have to do with my honest reservations concerning his abilities regarding this project? Just because he's a scientist AND in the Air Force doesn't make him more qualified. Hell, I’ve been working here for years and I’m not even sure what _I'm _doing half the time!”

“You done now?”

The nonchalant question took some wind out of Daniel a little. He gave a sheepish nod.

“Okay, let’s try this again, shall we? How do you feel?”

“The truth is that the thought of Jack with any man makes my skin crawl," he muttered.

“Any man but you, you mean.”

Daniel stood up quickly. “I know you mean well, Sam, but I… I’m not good at this… thing.”

Sam nodded silently, if a little skeptically.

Daniel said awkwardly. “I’ll be in my office.”

“Go home, Daniel. Take a breather. Major Jameson will be here constantly for the next few days, settling in and getting things running.” She looked directly at Daniel. “You’ll need it.”

“I’ll do that.” Daniel started to leave, then slowly turned to look at her again. “By the way, you were making one hell of a big assumption. I could have just been of the phobic persuasion.”

Sam smiled. “And Jack really does always follow the straight-and-narrow path.” Daniel was already heading for the exit when Sam added, “Don’t think I can’t tell the difference between admiration and… admiration. It isn’t such a big leap to take, is it?”

* * *

  
Upon consideration, Daniel would be the first to admit that all this internal drama bullshit was just that. Bullshit.

Still, self-awareness meant nothing if he still insisted on acting like a complete and utter moron over the matter.

His earlier resolution was in a complete shambles by the time the mid-week rolled around. Jameson was, he had to grudgingly admit, very good at what he was supposed to be doing. And apparently whatever it was Jameson was in the labs for, it was interesting enough for Jack to drop in. And of course, being Jack in an environment that he was not built for, he was very… Jack.

SG-speak for ‘annoying the hell out of you’.

“So, what does this do?”

Jameson didn’t even bother to identify whatever it was that Jack was looking at. “It causes impotency in whoever touches it.”

Jack’s hand froze. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does. Try touching it and find out.”

The hand carefully retracted itself. “So… what do you want it to do?”

Daniel secretly gagged as he absently collected the wayward artifact he needed from one of the tables (and presumably return impatiently to his own, no doubt just as important, research).

Jameson was interesting enough it seemed to warrant almost daily visits from Jack. And between the two of them, they had enough charm to fell any disapproving glares from the other scientists.

As opposed to when Jack visited Daniel, because what he would get was dust and allergies and people with serious social communication defects. And enough sarcasm to fuel a couple dozen half an hour sitcoms.

Daniel had earlier decided to embrace all his doubts and insecurities regarding his fledgling feelings for Jack. Denial had brought him to this mess, and denial would not help now.

So he had whole-heartedly embraced the fact that he was jealous.

Daniel had taken to having his lunches (and every other meal) within the safety of his office. _A man should not be tested so_, he thought bitterly. Everywhere he went, there they were like a pair of very paired up things.

Maybe if Teal’c were there, he’d find someone to commiserate with. Or at least someone who could do a very good impression of attentive listening.

He didn’t dare risk Sam’s potential ‘I told you so’. Or worse, if she decided to play matchmaker with Janet.

Daniel shuddered, and looked down on his plate.

Commissary food sucked.

Nothing like a change of perspective to see just exactly what you missed.

At least they were discreet enough to not be caught playing footsie, but dammit, he wanted to be the one who made Jack go all happy-happy flirting mode. He wanted to be the one who was the focus of Jack’s attention. He wanted to be the one who could openly appreciate what a great guy Jack was.

And the painful twist of it, once upon a time, he could have been.

Now he was only one of the many, orbiting but never touching down.

* * *

  
Having made peace with the unfortunate truth in the circumstances, Daniel had worked himself into a routine of petty loathing and become quite comfortable with it, thank you very much, right until the moment Sergeant Siler, of the wrench, upturned it with a throwaway question.

“How long are you gonna be angry at the Colonel, Doctor Jackson?” Siler wasn’t even looking at him when the question was asked, being too preoccupied with the potential near future of death by SGC ventilation system-related electrocution.

“Angry? What are you talking about?” Daniel asked.

Siler blinked repeatedly, as though suddenly remembering to whom he was talking to. “Sorry sir, none of my business.”

Daniel could have left it at that, but no.

“What makes you think I’m angry at Jack?”

“No reason, sir. Would you look at that, we’ve got corrosion,” Siler segued smoothly. “I’ll go get my other toolbox from the store room.” He jumped down from his ladder, only to come face to face with an intent Daniel.

Daniel made an indignant sound, which Siler pretty much took to be his last chance of getting the hell out of there. So he did, leaving Daniel alone and scowling at the door.

Just because he was currently cooped up in his room, listlessly looking at the translation work in front of him, did not mean he was sulking. He was just taking a break, that was all.

Even if the break was in its 15th minute and counting. Or that his mind was filled with thoughts and speculation about Jack. About Jameson. About Jack and Jameson. Together. Doing things. Together. Non-military things. Things that might be involving too much showing of teeth.

Together.

He carefully unclenched his fingers. At any other given moment, he would have been horrified at how he’d almost crumpled up some priceless ancient alien text, but he was too busy not stewing.

He was not sulking either.

He was not sulking to stew. Not even if every thing he did sparked a thought and that thought invariably would return to Jack.

Or pretzels.

Pretzels?

The naked kind.

Daniel sighed, eyes drifting down to the ladder that Siler had abandoned in his haste to get out of there. He decided that he might as well return the ladder to the poor man, and take the time to get out of his office.

* * *

  
“Doctor Jackson.”

The voice echoed down the hallway, spoken in that true authoritative manner that Daniel intellectually knew better than to hate.

A long second while he composed his features, and then he turned, face blandly interested. “Yes?”

The good major took his time walking towards Daniel, making him stand there like… like…

Like a flunky.

If Daniel had laser vision, there would be a pile of cinders… right there.****

“If you're not busy Doctor, may I have a moment of your time?" Sheridan asked, all politeness and courtesy.

Daniel shrugged and kept walking.

“Doctor Jackson, I should warn you, I can be just as persistent and annoying as Jack when I want to be,” Jameson began, easily keeping up with Daniel’s long strides.

_Well, it explains why you two are friends then_, Daniel thought cattily.

Jameson continued casually, “So you might as well stop trying to scurry off and give me the one minute I’m asking.”

“Fine. What?”

“By the looks of things we're going to be working together for quite a while, you do know that, right?”****

Daniel did not bother to answer the obvious.****

Jameson pressed on, “And if you don't like me for whatever reason, that's fine, too. But it's unfair to Jack.” There was a calculating feel in his next words as he reminded needlessly, “He's your team leader.”

Daniel stopped abruptly, taking petty pleasure in seeing Jameson belatedly realizing so.

“Look, Major… Jameson. I am not the most friendly guy in this place. Don't mistake my natural reticence for some sort of obscure vendetta against you.”****

The mild condescension either did not register or was ignored. "Big words scare Jack off, not me,” Jameson said mildly.****

Daniel began walking again. “I was merely trying to explain. Lucky for me you managed to understand. Now if you don’t mind…”

And Jameson was in front of him, all 6 foot something of the major suddenly blocking his path, forcing Daniel to halt his determined stride.

“Jack’s a persistent guy,” Jameson said.

“You noticed,” Daniel said carelessly.

“_Yes_.” Jameson’s voice was surprisingly low when he added. “But he knows where he’s not wanted. He… misses bugging you. You’re more irritable. In a good way, of course.”

“A good way. Of course,” Daniel said, surprising even himself with all-new levels of sarcasm. “It’s just all part of the job description.”

Daniel was pretty sure that that muscle twitch was Jameson resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Doctor Jackson. Your opinion – your _acceptance_ – means a great deal to him.”

_Acceptance? What the hell is he blabbing about now?_

He was about to start walking away again, when he was suddenly struck with the image of Jack, in his office, eyes down to the floor, saying that Daniel was the last person in the world he’d thought to worry about.

_Oh._

Jameson stuffed his hands in his pockets, satisfied. “Good.”

Without a backward glance, Daniel made a tactical retreat to his office, leaving the ladder to Jameson’s mercy.

* * *

  
Daniel unconsciously slumped on his desk, wondering why the murkier terrains of history were much more easier to navigate than human emotions.

_What a day, Dr Jackson, to be told off by someone you’ve made a point to dislike._

_About Jack no less._

Daniel sighed again. He hadn’t thought he was being obvious. Of course, thinking back, his actions were as subtle as a sack of bricks dropped from a great height, but still.

_And this is guilt._

He hadn’t thought that Jack would notice.

As soon as he thought the thought, he knew it was a foolish thought. But, in a moment of spite, which had quickly snowballed into acts of random madness, he didn't think Jack would notice. After all, he was too busy with his new friend. His _old_ friend.

But there really wasn't anything to be upset about. It wasn't like that Jack was his... his.... it wasn't like they weren’t full-grown men capable of mature adult decisions.

Okay, so maybe a _bit _upset.

Then he remembered that lunch at the cafeteria. He had been sitting quite a distance away, but even so the easy camaraderie between Jack and Jameson had been clear. And every moment since then, to be perfectly honest, he’d acted like a complete jackass.

All right, make that a lot upset.

Aww, crap.

* * *

  
Daniel was a man with a purpose. One goal in particular was to make the little echo in his head stop, the one that had Jameson’s voice and kept saying, _He thinks you’re avoiding him_, over and over again.

Gripe as he might, there was some truth to that.

And he hadn’t done anything to make Jack think otherwise.

Also, Daniel’s brain added treacherously, he hadn’t done anything to make Jack think he was okay with… with… Jack’s stereophonic sexuality.

_Oh no._

That little drop in his stomach had to be yet another wave of guilt settling in.

He’d been mean to Jack. That was the last thing he’d wanted to do, because the whole purpose of self-pity was to inflict pain upon oneself, thus saving wear and tear on everyone else’s feelings.

He wouldn’t apologize for being irritated, but he would apologize for being a jerk.

“Sergeant, have you seen Colonel O’Neill?”

“No, sorry, Doctor Jackson.”

“Thanks.”

Daniel rarely if ever had to corner Jack down, on base or off, because Jack did more than enough cornering for both of them. And by the look of it that arrangement had been a good thing because Daniel was just now discovering that he absolutely sucked at hunting Jack down, a considerable feat considering they were stuck under a goddamn mountain.

How the hell did Jack do it?

“Excuse me, Airman?”

“Yes, Doctor Jackson?”

“Have you seen Colonel O’Neill?”

“The physical labs, I think.”

Well, at least he was getting some exercise.

Taking an intrepid peek through the open entrance into the physical labs, Daniel noted that they were empty, save for two science personnel, Major Carter, Major Jameson and Major Jameson’s Oozing Charm, which surely had acquired an identity all it’s own.

“Whoa, that’s pretty cool,” Jameson was saying.

“Yeah, well.” Sam shrugged casually. “And what about you?”

Momentarily putting aside his extreme allergy to Jameson, Daniel leaned in the doorway and asked, “Sorry to interrupt, but have you guys seen Jack?”

“General Hammond asked to see him,” Sam said. “He should be in his office, or the briefing room.”

“Okay, thanks.” Daniel took off before Jameson could say anything.

When Daniel reached the briefing room, General Hammond was nowhere to be seen, but Jack was standing by his desk, scowling daggers at an open folder in his hands.

“Jack. You busy?”

Jack looked up sharply, face actually lighting up when he saw him. “Daniel!”

Daniel found himself doing a double take. The last time he’d gotten butterflies in his stomach had been, what, in _high school_?

“Actually I am kinda busy.” Jack waved the folder at him, and gave a long-suffering sigh. “Mission proposals. Ugh. Did you want something?”

Daniel opened his mouth. Then closed it. He’d spent about an hour scouring the base for Jack, and in all that time hadn’t even paused to ponder what he’d actually say when he found him.

Jack gave the folder a restless shake. “Daniel? I gotta get this done by the end of the day so…”

Oh, right, he’d come to apologize.

“Ah yes, Colonel, are you done with those?” General Hammond had appeared in the doorway behind him, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say.

“Sir, _yes_, sir,” Jack said, moving past Daniel toward General Hammond.

“Good, there are some final things I need you to look over,” Hammond said, taking out another small file from the small stack in his hands.

“For crying out… Yes, sir.”

“Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Have a seat. And pass it to Alice when you’re done, will you?”

Jack nodded curtly as General Hammond disappeared again, not that Daniel noticed. He was too busy hovering uncertainly as Jack took a seat and practically tore the file open.

“You in a rush, Jack?” Daniel asked.

“Big game on tonight.” Jack said, eyes skimming the pages quickly. “End of the season.”

“Ah. You going to watch it with _Jameson_ then?”

“Yeah, right. I see enough of the guy on base, why would I want to spend my free time with him, too?”__

Something in Daniel’s stomach was twisting funnily, and it was that bit that was reminding him that _hey_, Jack spent time with Daniel off-base and they saw even _more_ of each other during work. Huh.

Also, Jack had a very aesthetically-pleasing head, especially with the way tufts of hair always ended up sticking at awkward angles by the end of the day.

Argh. Now was not the time to stall.

Still, it wasn’t supposed to be like _this_. Jack was supposed to be look him right in the eye, and in doing so Daniel would instinctively know what to say.

It was difficult to apologize when the recipient was more concerned with budget numbers and imminent hockey glory.

Before Daniel could figure anything out, Jack bellowed an, “Okay, I am _done_!” He slammed his palm down on the file and practically jumped out of the chair. “I’ll be seeing _you_, much later.”

Jack could move quickly when motivated, leaving Daniel to stumble awkwardly after him into the hallway, his legs doing a strange indecisive walk-jog-run after Jack, who by then was already waiting at the elevators.

Now or never.

“Jack!”

“Hey. I’m kinda in a hurry so—”

“I know, I know.” Theoretically, a simple ‘sorry’ would have done, but Daniel knew it wouldn’t be enough. There were other things there, other issues to be addressed and balances to be kept, and there had to be a way to accomplish that within a few syllables. “We…”

Jack was looking at him. Closely. Curiously. “We what?”

“We’re okay, right? About… about everything?” And Daniel did something he had never done before, which was to reach out a hand and pat Jack on the arm.

Jack blinked, and then broke out into a dazzling grin. “We’re okay.”

“Okay,” Daniel said tightly, unable to look away.

“Cool.” He returned the gesture with a little mock-punch at Daniel’s shoulder.

_Ting._

Jack stepped in. “Have a good weekend, Daniel.” He gave a little open-palm wave just as the doors slid shut.

Daniel smiled to himself. And then doubt assailed him. Jack did know what he meant, right?

Right?

* * *

 

_Right?_

And that final thought nagged at him (in a strangely familiar voice) for the rest of the day, even as he attempted to bury himself in work, gave up, checked out for the day, drove home, made some half-hearted attempt at dinner, ruined his half-hearted attempt at dinner, and finally got into his car to head to Jack’s.

He blamed Jameson, for reasons obvious.

He blamed Sam, because she was the one who’d started it all.

But most of all, he blamed Jack for having turned his world upside down without even realizing it.

Even as he looked out the window of his car and caught movement on Jack’s observation deck, Daniel refused to acknowledge the reason he was really there. It was likely to have something to do with swooping in and claiming territory, but that line of thought was a little too Neanderthal for even Daniel to contemplate.

The absolute thing Daniel wanted was for things to be back the way they were before.

Oh, for life to have a stop and rewind button.

Daniel could not rest until he made things right. Proper. Balanced. Whatever. Back to the way before, when things were simpler, and Jack was nothing more than his irritating yet reliable friend and occasional CO.

Yeah, that helped his ego.

Thoughts of a possible panic attack flew across Daniel’s mind as he made his way up onto Jack’s roof, but the body was working on autopilot.

If there was anything Daniel had learned during his some years of traipsing across the galaxy, it was that his instincts could always be trusted to bring forth results. Sure, not always the results he _wanted_, but at this point he’d settle for anything_._

He hadn’t a clue exactly how he was about to broach the topic to Jack but he figured he’d figure that out eventually. He was calm. He was cool. He was mature. And his target was suitably oblivious to his presence, sitting cross-legged on the observation deck, a small portable lamp set next to him and…

Holy fuckin’ fishsticks.

Jack was wearing glasses. Rectangular, rimless, with thin silver frames.

Daniel was pretty sure that on their own the glasses were harmless, but perched on Jack’s nose they upped the hotness factor of the man to damn well scorching.

It was sound of Daniel’s wheezing that got Jack’s attention, causing him to drop his book in surprise. “Jeez, Daniel, what the hell are you doing sneaking around like that?!”

Daniel gaped, blinking repeatedly as Jack stood up to approach him.

“Well, this is a surprise, Doctor Jackson,” Jack said cheerfully. “Come on up, it’s been a while since you’ve visited this place.” He reached out a hand to Daniel, who didn’t notice when Jack hauled him up. Didn’t even notice when Jack started frowning, for all his attention was focused on the pair of bifocals.

Bifocals? Oh no, not _just_ bifocals.

Fuck-me bifocals.

“What’re you staring at, Daniel? Have I got something on my—” Jack asked, raising a hand to his face. His fingers touched the rims, and his eyes immediately widened. “Oh shit.”

Daniel stared.

Jack’s voice dropped to low and threatening as he said, “Daniel, I swear to god that if you tell anyone I have reading glasses, I will destroy every single pair of yours, do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Daniel swallowed.

“Daniel?”

Daniel was sure that some part of his brain registered whatever half-baked threats Jack was making. But there was another part that was making his arm move on their own volition. He was merely being helpful, he told himself. Look at them, perching precariously on Jack’s nose. Those glasses were about to fall off on their own anyway.

Well, it was perfectly obvious to Daniel, but it was possible that Jack would misunderstand the way he was gently pushing the glasses back up his nose. So that same part of his brain made his mouth say softly:

“Payback.”

Jack blinked.

Daniel blinked twice.

Did he just…

Ok, so not with the not-throwing-yourself-at-the-Colonel program here. Time for damage control.

He needed to apologize quickly, before the misunderstanding he was hoping to correct got worse.

Breathing in deeply, he opened his mouth to say—

Only to realize Jack was studying him closely, his eyes _peering_ over _his fucking fuck-me glasses_.

Vaguely, Daniel wondered if he ever thought that glasses could be that sexy.

More clearly, he thought, _what the hell_.

He was sure there were a million good reasons why it never was a good idea to kiss the commanding officer of your team, but at that moment, he couldn’t remember a single one of them.

Daniel distantly registered Jack making a sound like ‘oof’ as he was thrown back against a railing, but he was too busy getting his lips acquainted with Jack’s. The kiss was sloppy, his nose was pressing into Jack’s cheek and their frames were clinking together, but all the same, it was the hottest. Thing. Ever.

_Jack_ was the hottest thing ever.

He was just coming to terms with that fact when he felt Jack’s hands gently grip his upper arms and force him a respectable distance away.

Daniel was smiling stupidly, and why should he be? Why _shouldn’t_ he take what he wanted? He’d been a good boy for so long, it was only fair.

The stunned look on Jack’s face was well worth it, too.

“Well,” Jack coughed. “Seems my gaydar has been malfunctioning.”

“I’d say so,” Daniel agreed.

There was that stunned look again. “Before you say another word, we’re taking this inside. _Now_, Daniel.”

* * *

  
Once inside, Daniel looked around uncertainly. Funny how familiar surroundings could look terrifying and new in the light of sudden revelations.

Even just looking at Jack in his home surroundings didn’t have that calming effect it once did.

“Jack?”

Jack’s voice was flippant when he said, “Daniel, I’m really very sorry for dumping it on you like that. You deserve better, and I should have mentioned it to you before, but I kinda figured that it wasn’t all that important.”

It took Daniel a moment to realize what Jack was really saying. But by then he was too stunned to reply.

“Hey, you’re only human, and there’s no need to be embarrased.” This was Jack being cautious, hands in his pockets and the coffee table standing between them. “Curiosity has always been one of your greatest, uh, talents.”

Daniel gaped. “No, Jack, I—”

“Daniel! You’re not thinking clearly. Go home. Give it some time, you’ll see that it’s…” Jack’s hand made a crazy waving motion.

“Excuse me, _no_, it’s not—” Daniel imitated the waving motion with flourish. “It’s me. And you. Me _and _you. I want… I want you. What, you don’t think I’m good enough for you?”

That made Jack sputter indignantly. “That’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying?” Daniel snapped. “That because I find you attractive, it’s got to be mistake? I don’t know myself enough to know what I want?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying? You don’t find _me_ attractive?”

“Beside the point.”

“It’s very _much _the point, Jack! If you don’t find me attractive, then you better just come out and say it!”

“_You’re very attractive!_”

“Really?!”

“Yeah!”

“Then what are we shouting about?!”

“I don’t know!”

Jack deflated, and took a moment to press the heel of his palm against his forehead. “You don’t just wake up one morning gay, Daniel. It doesn’t work that way.”

Daniel crossed his arms. “Who cares how it works?” he asked, some of his frustration seeping through. “Look at what we do for a living. We have our conceptions of the universe turned around on _a daily basis_, so me liking you – a lot – is really all that farfetched?” He came closer to the wary Colonel, carefully keeping his arms close.

“And besides,” Daniel shrugged. “This is all your fault.”

Jack’s eyes widened behind the glass. “How did you get to _that_ conclusion?”

“You flirt like a hussy. And you dare call _me_ a cheap date.”

Jack sputtered. “I do not flirt!”

“Yes, you do.”

“Do not!”

“Yes, you do.”

“Do NOT!”

“Jack, you _do_. You have no respect for other people’s personal space, you can’t seem to get through a conversation without using _some _sort of innuendo, and you get all touchy-feely for no reason whatsoever—”

“Okay, maybe I flirt a little bit,” Jack conceded.

Daniel bit back a tart retort and merely answered, “That’s an understatement.”

Jack looked like he wanted to say something, but he paused, considering. Slow realization passed over Jack’s face. “You were – no,  you couldn’t have been…”

“What? No! Of course not.”

“You _were_!”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You _so_ were!”

“Well, you were busy flaunting your hotness!”

Jack looked pleased. “You think I’m hot?”

“I don’t _think_,” Daniel said pointedly. “Just _look_ at you! I’m only human, Jack, and you shouldn’t have been wearing those damn dress blues in the first place.”

“I’m… sorry?” Jack’s grin was going to be the death of him.

“Sure you are. But anyway - and the - I mean, and then there’s the…” His eyes glazed over as he focused on Jack’s glasses. “Gyuuuhh…”

Jack squinted down at his newest accessory. “I thought I looked kinda stupid in them.”

That did it. Daniel used what little calm he had left to place his glasses on the coffee table, and then launched himself at Jack.

Jack would have to realize that Daniel meant business now rather than later, and if that meant a judicious application of violence on Daniel’s part, well, he’d always been the sort who was all for the greater good.

Jack could have gotten away easily, of that Daniel was certain. Whatever the case, Jack only managed a breathy “Whoa, Daniel!” before being backed up against the wall and getting his wrists locked between Daniel’s fingers.

He carefully took off those confounding wire-frames and said, “Shut up, Jack.” It was easier to kiss Jack than to talk, so that was what Daniel did. There was no flair or panache in his technique, but he must have been doing something right, because soon enough Jack was making interesting little noises in the back of his throat.

A quick maneuver and Jack’s hands were free, though this time they landed on Daniel’s hips, bringing him in closer and – _oh yeah!_

“Second door to the left, isn’t it?” Daniel gasped between kisses.

“What?” Jack asked.

“Your _bedroom_,” Daniel all but snarled.

“Uh…”

But Daniel wasn’t going to wait for answer, opting instead to grab a fistful of Jack’s shirt and hope that he got the hint. Which he did, thank god, allowing them to navigate drunkenly pass a few chairs, a table and a staircase toward the ever-elusive O’Neill master bedroom.

Once there, there was much more in the way of kissing and groping, as well as several uncoordinated attempts to disrobe. Daniel finally lost his balance at the foot of the bed, grappling uselessly for Jack’s arms as he toppled backwards onto the spread.

Biting back a curse, Daniel opened his eyes to see Jack still standing at the foot of the bed, looking at him.

“What?” Daniel snapped, feeling awkward and clumsy all over again.

“Nah,” Jack said, his sudden grin almost maniacal. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Well, could you enjoy the view a little closer?” Daniel huffed, and pushed himself up, one hand in front of him to tug at Jack's pants. Jack let himself be pulled forward until his knees bumped against the edge of the bed, thus allowing Daniel free access to start undoing Jack’s pants.

“You know what I think?” Jack asked conversationally as he helped tug Daniel’s shirt over his head, “I think you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing.”

“That’s never stopped me before,” Daniel pointed out, finally getting Jack’s fly open. Jack was about to respond to that, but the words turned into a very interesting moan that Daniel decided he had to hear more often.

Daniel let his gaze travel upwards from the open fly, up across the flat stomach and chest, and finally resting on Jack’s nicely bewildered expression.

Daniel realized that he was grinning. And because he wasn’t the sort to leave it well alone, he just had to comment, “Cat got your tongue?”

Suddenly he was flat on his back, six-foot something of Colonel on top of him. In Daniel’s recent musings, he’d wondered what it would be like to have another man on top of him. He’d had a vague inkling as to the kind of rush it could be to get as much as he could give, but that inkling had been way off that mark.

Mostly because he _wasn’t _with just another man.

He was with Jack, and that made all the difference.

Jack, who was grinning between kisses, who waggled his eyebrows as he yanked Daniel’s pants off, and who burst out laughing when Daniel started cursing in Abydonian.

Whoever said that laughter during sex was bad, obviously hadn’t known Jack.

That was a good thing, come to think of it.

It was also a good thing that at least one of them knew what was going on, for soon enough Daniel felt Jack move in between his legs, scissoring them together and bringing his crotch up to meet Jack’s hipbone. Glorious pressure bloomed in his gut, making him gasp.

Still, it wasn’t anywhere near enough for Daniel, so he tightened his grip, wrapping a thigh firmly around Jack’s waist and locking him down.

“Fuck…” Jack gasped, mouth somewhere near his shoulder. He was thrusting back, shoulders shaking with the effort.

All Daniel knew was that it still wasn’t enough. He needed to get closer somehow – closer and harder and he was pushing with all he had and it still wasn’t enough.

“Jack… I…” Daniel gasped.

It was possible that Jack heard him, because he suddenly shifted to the side and then ground down sharply, ripping the orgasm out of Daniel.

Like flying, only without the nausea. Definitely no nausea.

A little sore throat, maybe.

Then there was the matter of watching Jack come, all cursing and moaning, and gripping his shoulder so hard Daniel knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

They lay there, all sweaty and sticky, until Jack finally decided to let Daniel breathe and rolled off him.

* * *

  
Daniel was fascinated. There were a number of activities in reference to Jack and Jack’s bed that Daniel’s libido had come up with, but this was not one of them. Not by a long shot.

“Will you stop staring?” Jack asked, turning to give Daniel a mildly irritated look.

“You’re cutting your toenails,” Daniel pointed out.

Jack stared at him. “Yeah. I do that when they grow too long.” He lifted his foot and wiggled his toes at Daniel. “Long toenails. Must cut.”

“The domestic mundanity of this is just too surreal.”

“You rather I toe you until you bleed to death?” Jack bent back over his foot and started clipping again.

“Well, no,” Daniel said slowly.

It was just spectacularly wrong that they were both naked, in bed together, wide awake, and the only action to be had was that of a nail clipper.

“So… You and Jameson.” Daniel reached out and poked Jack in his lower back.

“Whaddaboutit?”

“Were you guys ever…” Daniel trailed off.

“Ever what?”

“Ever a _thing_.”

Jack snorted. “Not my type.”

“Really? Why?”

Jack shrugged as he carefully placed his toenail clippings on the side table. “Guy didn’t annoy me enough.”

“Is that an insult?”

“Make of it what you will, but you’re the one who’s warming my sheets. Scoot over!” Jack slid under the covers, immediately shimmying over to spoon over by Daniel’s side.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Jack huffed a sigh as he skimmed his lips across Daniel’s breastbone. “Give the old man some time to recover, whydoncha?”

Daniel stroked Jack’s hips gently. “I _am _trying to help, you know.”

“So Daniel… You’ve been thinking indecent thoughts about me since you found out about my lack of preference, huh?”

“A little. But mostly I was being confused.”

“Oh. Yeah well, you’re you and all.”

Daniel stifled a moan as Jack’s tongue grazed a nipple. “Have you… Have you ever thought about me?”

Jack stopped with the licking, propping his chin on Daniel’s chest. “Hmm. No, I don’t think so.”

Daniel scowled down at him. “Why _not_?”

“Because it’s dangerous to want what you can’t have,” Jack said.

There was a smile as Jack said it, but Daniel thought he heard the slightest of tremors that made his stomach feel the bad sort of funny. Even after the events of the past few days, Daniel knew better than to point it out.

So instead, he tugged Jack up for a kiss, the first one they’d had so far that was not punctuated by any sort of desperate groping.

“That’s nice,” Jack, always the eloquent one, said afterward.

Daniel smiled. Maybe there’d be talking later, maybe there wouldn’t. For now, he was in bed with Jack, a man who had no qualms about clipping his toenails in bed. Good enough.

* * *

  
Meanwhile, the world continued spinning. And it was Monday again.

Daniel didn’t know what to expect when he went back to work. To be sure, in the cosmic sense, nothing had changed. But some profound evolution _had _occurred in Daniel’s little universe, and now he was wondering if it would be evident enough for all to see.

He’d showered a little longer than usual that morning, hands moving on water-slick skin, trying to remember all the places Jack had touched, even if it seemed he was taking extra care trying to rid of the evidence instead.

He dressed himself, and drove to work, feeling some fundamental shift in the way he moved, and walked, and talked. More than sure that everyone could tell what he had done, he could feel a mark burning into his chest and those bestowed with military eyes would see it burning bright scarlet.

Yet, as he passed the SGC’s primary checkpoint and went down the elevator, he made it all the way to his office without a single out-of-place glance or greeting. As if things hadn’t changed at all.

* * *

  
By the time Daniel for the scheduled rendezvous in the control room, Jack was already there, hands in his pockets and dressed to the SGC nines with the only dishevelment being a slightly messed-up collar. He didn’t look like a guy who had just, a few hours earlier, given Daniel a quickie in his hallway before sending him home.

“Are you sure it’s not time yet?” Jack was asking Sergeant Davis. “Teal’c does have this thing for punctuality, and he’s never missed a mark yet.”

“We’ll find out soon, sir,” Davis replied, just before turning slightly in his chair and adding, “Good morning, Major Carter. Dr. Jackson.”

“Good morning, Davis,” Sam said.

“Morning,” said Daniel.

At the sound of his voice, Jack’s head slowly swiveled around. There was nothing all that different in the gaze, either. Right there were the same eye crinkles and slow smile, just the sort Daniel and various other SGC persons had been receiving well over the past half decade.

“Good morning, Daniel,” Jack said.

Daniel panicked. “Uh.”

But Jack had already turned away. “Morning, Carter.”

“Good morning, sir,” Sam said, oblivious to the fact she was stealing Daniel’s line.

“Hmm, must’ve been a productive weekend, eh Carter?” Jack asked.

“Yes, sir it was. I got a lot of work done.”

“I’m sure you did,” Jack said.

It looked like the beginning of another at-the-Control-Room-waiting-for-the-wormhole banter. Except Daniel had lost the script along the way.

He could choose to remain standing where he is, or he could try stealing subtly across, to stand by Jack’s side. He could reply a pithy observation. He could try smiling secretly at Jack. He could make signals to Sam.

He could, for the sake of theory, act normal.

But what was normal in the universe where Daniel had just spent a very pleasurable 52 hours molesting, and being molested by, Jack?

Daniel was too busy thinking to notice that Jack was no longer paying even half-interest at the Stargate. Instead, his easy smile had suddenly sharpened into a scowl, eyes fixated somewhere above Daniel’s eyeline.

“Hey, what’s that?” Jack said. “Don’t move!”

Daniel froze, but not out of obedience. “What?”

“That!” Jack said.

Daniel remained frozen as Jack’s hand moved towards his head with a sort of horrified caution, and he felt the slightest of touches against his hair.

“Dandruff,” Jack said, looking very concerned.

“I don’t have dandruff,” Daniel said, insulted. “I take good care of my—”

The fingers were still there. He could _feel_ them there, and in fact, the thumb had descended against the outer shell of his ear and was…

Oh!

“Right there!” Jack said, still squinting at Daniel’s follicles. “Ain’t that right, Carter?”

“You have the closer look, sir,” Sam said, her expression caught between propriety and amusement.

The thumb was still doing something with Daniel’s ear, and he was sure that it wasn’t touching. No, just touching wouldn’t make his hormones jump from zero to hot zingalingdoodah.

“You better get a new shampoo,” Jack said. The hand left the edge of Daniel’s scalp and slammed down on his shoulder, making him jump.

“Shampoo, right.” Daniel’s thoughts leapfrogged from Jack’s hand to Jack’s hand with shampoo, and he had to grab the edge of the console table to steady himself.

“I can recommend something, if you want,” Sam suggested. “Well, at least I know Major Jameson can.”

Daniel looked at her sharply. She had that faintly bland smile, the one that made people think that they’d said something so profoundly silly that the only reason she was holding her tongue was because she had no idea what had just been said. If Daniel didn’t know any better, he’d think that really was all there was to it.

“Most dermatological products are solely cosmetic,” Sam added helpfully. “It’s always good to ask someone who knows.”

“Of which Major Jameson is an expert, I'm sure,” Daniel retorted.

"Hey, not everyone is born with good scalp genes," Jack said mildy. “You should listen to Carter, Daniel.” The semi-theatrical whisper was for comic effect, no doubt, but the subtext remained – he was standing very very close.  Was that a gust of warm air blowing into his ear? “She’s a very wise woman.”

Davis spoke, a faint throat-clearing noise punctuating his words: “Incoming wormhole, Colonel.”

“That’s our Teal’c, always on time,” Jack said, settling back to watch the Stargate spin.

Every time a wormhole burst to life, and Daniel was there to see it, it never failed to take his breath away. Every time felt like a brand new experience.

But in the new dark of the control room, the effect of contrast against the bright glare of the wormhole, the tight feeling in his chest was caused by something else entirely.

He should have known that Jack’s smile would never be harmless again. Even there, out in the open, among countless people who would probably never know.

But all things considered, it was an excellent trade-off.


End file.
